Eyes Wide Open
by I. G. Scorsone
Summary: Bellamy Blake was ready to find Clarke Griffin, chase after her even, after she had so swiftly disappeared from his life. But what he didn't expect was all that came with her. Set after 2x16, previously called 'May We Meet Again'.
1. Chapter 1

Bellamy was pacing around the room like a madman, going up and down.

"You're going to make a whole in the ground if you won't stop." His sister remarked, but he ignored her.

He had far more precious things to worry about, rather than sarcasm.

"We won't get her back by boring us to death, you know?"

That sentence attracted his attention.

"What do you mean we? There's no we."

"I'm going with you!" Octavia said stubbornly, while getting herself up from the bed.

"No, you're not. End of discussion."

"When will you stop treating me like a child?" She yelled fiercely.

Bellamy was vividly aware of everyone's eyes on him but he couldn't find the power to care.

"I have to agree with Octavia." Raven intervened, trying to quiet the argument down.

"I won't ask you to leave the camp."

"You're not asking anything. It's our choice." Monty came in.

Bellamy didn't fail to notice Jasper sitting quietly in the furthest corner and couldn't help a second's wonder.

But Jasper wasn't the only person there.

In fact, there were so many of them and all willing to go.

The reasons Bellamy didn't want anyone else to come with him were quite simple. First of all, he had no idea how Clarke would react when she saw him, let alone half of their people. Second of all, he had no idea _where_ Clarke had gone and to risk so many lives for an unplanned expedition seemed more than unfair.

And among these lives, was his sister's.

Not long ago, there was a time when his sister was everything and no one else mattered.

But now, now he had too many people in his hands and without one very important person, he felt clueless.

So he needed to find that person.

That night, Bellamy didn't sleep, not that it was uncommon lately. His mind kept racing at the speed of light thinking of places she could've gone to.

"_The City of Light? Sounds like bullshit." _

"_I'm telling you, that's where we should go when all this is over."_

"_So we're going to waste our days searching for a legend?"  
"But any legend has truth in it." _

Suddenly, Bellamy was wide awake and pacing on his feet again, the darkness swallowing him.

The conversation he had just remembered was one of the many senseless discussions he had heard while in Mt. Weather.

But now, now that fragment seemed to give him the slightest bit of hope.

It was crazy.

But was it worth a try?

"_There's this city somewhere not far away that is the land of promise." _

"_How do you get there?" _

The more and more dialogues Bellamy remembered from that hellhole, the more and more possible it became that Clarke was indeed heating towards there.

After all, she had spent her fair share of days in Mt. Weather as well.

And yet, leaving safety without another moment's thought seemed stupid, even for him.

* * *

Clarke's footsteps were long and lazy across the sand.

She had moved fast, she knew she had, but her strength was decreasing rapidly with the fall of the night. She knew she had to stop soon, but both the slowly cooling temperature and the opening of the desert were pushing her to move forward.

Earlier that day, she had taken her jacket off, considering it too hot. But now, the jacket didn't feel like enough.

She was not prepared for this journey, no matter how many supplies she had managed to steal from the Grounders.

She remembered her last night clearly, mostly because she had slept so well in the woods, high up in a tree and tided to it so not to fall.

But now, now where would she sleep, away from sight?

Honestly, Clarke had no idea why she was even bothering. She was alone for at least hundreds of miles.

* * *

By the time the first sun rays came knocking on Bellamy's window, he was already up, the few hours that he had slept giving him just enough energy for a whole day.

The idea was still fresh in his mind, but he pushed it aside for the time being.

He got dressed, got washed, fully enjoying every luxury put forward for him. In the mirror shards set carefully on the wall he could catch glimpses of his wounds, the same wounds that have defined him for the last few months. A deep sigh rang in the small room.

The breakfast buffet was incredibly varied, with all kinds of food andBellamy had no idea as to where they all came from. But for the first time since he reached Earth, he didn't bother trying to figure it out.

"Bellamy!"

A table in the corner waited for him and he didn't hesitate before taking a seat among his friends.

"Has anyone heard of the City of Light?"

"Morning to you, too, brother." Octavia mocked him.

He threw her a look to signal that he was serious.

"You don't think Clarke went looking for it, do you?" For the first time in what felt like forever, Jasper talked. His voice was rough and barely above a whisper. Bellamy also noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes, the way his face's features somehow made him look much older.

"I'm considering it a possibility. Do you know anything about it?"

"It's where most of the mountain people wanted to go to when they'd get to the ground. Some believed it to be just a story, but most thought it was true." and then, after a short pause and with a lost voice, "she believed in it."

No one spoke after that.

There was a piercing scream.

Then, everything turned into chaos, people running around aimlessly.

In the blinding sun of noon, Bellamy didn't fail to notice the motive of the panic: a single arrow that had flown over the fence and into the wall.

A note was hanging loosly from it.

**Hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

Clarke Griffin was both freezing and cursing herself for not thinking anything through.

_What the heck had been in her mind?_

Not that it mattered now. She had made it this far, no way was she going to stop until her promised land was found.

Of course, considering there is a promise land to begin with.

She tried wrapping the jacket tighter around herself but with no result. The wind that had been missing throughout the previous day was now blowing at full force, moving sand along. Clarke couldn't have opened her eyes even if she wanted to.

So instead, she stopped fighting and allowed sleep to claim her. Her body was just a small dot and the base of a gigantic dune, away from the world and shifting with the wind.

She woke up to blonde hair and sand in her mouth.

She woke up tired and with her back aching.

She also woke up with her heart aching and her back still burdened.

The sun was barely showing its first rays as it slowly climbed the sky and Clarke had no doubt it was beyond early.

Still she got up, and after a minute's laziness, set an acceptablly fast peace. If she was going to make any progress by nightfall, she had to be swift.

Bellamy didn't hesitate before ripping the note off, with no intention of making a show out of it.

Despite his best efforts a crowd still gathered around him, equally curious and terrified.

He read the note swiftly.

Then he stopped and reread.

"Bell?"

He could feel his sister's neck stretching over his shoulder to read as well.

"The Grounders have asked for a meeting." Octavia clarified after a while, her words determining a chorus of booing.

But Bellamy wasn't so sure that was what the note asked for.

Since when did Grounders send notes and not come straight to the source of their distress.

And since when did they address a single person.

_Clarke_.

This was not a note from the grounders to the sky people.

This was a note from one commander to another.

"What is going on here?"

After the fight he had to go through a few days ago, he could recognize that voice anywhere.

Abigail Griffin was standing right behind him, her eyes burning into his soul.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean nothing?"

When he didn't answer, Griffin became even more annoyed.

"Come with me." Her tone was scarily calm.

_And why would I do that?_

_Because you want them to follow you. And right now, they think only one of us is scared. _

He had had this fight with a Griffin before. He knew he was going to loose either way, so instead of wasting breath fighting, he followed orders.

"What just happened out there?"  
The inquisition room was all too familiar to Bellamy, despite the slightly destroyed walls surrounding him.

He would remember that room forever, as it was the room his long list of crimes started in.

_I need you. _

_You want forgiveness, fine. I'll give it to you. You're forgiven. _

He was enough for her, had always been.

_If you need forgiveness, I'll give that to you. You're forgiven. _

But he, he had never been enough for her.

"I told you, nothing."

"I don't have time for games."

"Nor do I."

There was a moment's pause. Bellamy could hear his heart beating although the cause of it was unidentifiable.

He dared to look up, only to meet a pair of piercing, fierce eyes and for a second he was reminded of all the pain he had been keeping inside the past few days.

As it bubbled up, he barely found the words to speak.

"It was Lexa trying to make amends with Clarke."

"I don't believe you." She had every right not to, and yet, it still came as a surprise for Bellamy.

The eyes analyzing his every move were no longer a fading ghost but as real as they could be.

So he handed the note without hesitation and watched as the same eyes traveled on the piece of paper.

"Fine. You're free to go."

And he was free to savor his despair and she hers.

_May we meet again. _

"Bellamy?"

Clarke shook her head vigorously and Bellamy disappeared.

She walked a few steps forward, before having to shake her head once again.

This time Jasper was accusing her of murder.

She would have probably cried, had she any water left in her whole body.

The last bit of water had been drank hours ago and it had been so little it barely wet her lips.

She had never felt so dry in her life.

The sun was setting, falling behind the sand as she dragged her feet across the golden torture. Her memory would vaguely remind her of things she had studied on the Ark like how somebody can survive 3 days without water and 3 weeks without food.

She remembered all of this and yet, she was still afraid to fall asleep.

So she kept walking, forcing herself even more with every new step.

And then, suddenly she couldn't force herself anymore.

Clarke wanted to wake up at the sudden tingling feeling. She wanted to, she really did. But the energy it would take her to do so was simply too much.

And yet, the situation screamed danger and danger screamed at Clarke to wake up. And since when did Clarke Griffin not listen to danger?

So she opened her eyes lazily, only to immediately jump back.

"Who are you?" She asked the girl standing in front of her, in what she could muster as a touch voice.

She didn't replay.

Instead, she offered Clarke water which she gladly accepted, ignoring the potential poison.

The water was good. It fell gently on her bloody lips, and healed the wounds before wetting her throat, like a delicate touch. Actually, it wasn't good.

It tasted like heaven.

She hungrily took another gulp, and then another one, and then another one until she was at least half satisfied. Through all of this, the girl waited patiently, not saying one word.

"Do you speak English?" Clarke asked when she was finally done. As she looked at her savior, she noticed for the first time that at least half her face had been burnt.

How could she have missed something like that?

The girl nodded, vigorously

"Where do you live?"

The stranger pointed towards south.

"Is there a city there?"  
Another nod.

**Another chapter I hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

"Is there a city there?"  
Another nod.

Clarke considered her options.

"Is it more than a day's journey?"

This time, the girl shook her head.

If she were to go with her, there was no proof she would not try to kill her. And yet, Clarke had nothing left on her. Not to mention what kind of person would go to the trouble of giving her water, just so she could later kill her?

But if she was alone, she could walk in her own pace, would be able to at least try to clear her thoughts.

"Can you get me there?"

There was a pause, and Clarke could swear she had never heard such a loud silence.

_Together. _

She was not a part of a team anymore.

Her heart was beating out of her chest and she could barely hold still. Whatever took that girl so long to answer was weighting on Clarke more than it should've.

So instead of worrying, she looked up and down at the girl. Her fingers were twitching, fumbling around with the hem of her sweater.

She was not a killer, it was obvious.

But she was well-fed. Definitely, as her body was not lacking curves.

She was also wearing something that might pass as a dress: a single piece of material sewed around her whole body. The sweater, complicatedly patterned, was hanging loosely from her shoulders.

It definitely didn't look like she expected to be in the desert by sunset.

How close was the city?

Suddenly, a single thought ran through Clarke's mind.

As the stranger in front of her nodded, the blonde didn't hesitate before asking something else.

"Is it the City of Light?"

She should have thanked her. Should have showed her her gratitude because she was sure as hell thankful. But instead, she kept bombarding her with all kinds of questions.

So this time, she waited patiently for her answer, sure that she would get one.

It wasn't until Clarke saw a head shaking 'no' that she realized she wasn't expecting the city to be anything but what she was looking for.

She looked at the stranger again, surprised to see terror in her eyes.

And surprised to see only one of her eyes was blue.

The part of her face which had been burnt hid a deep green eye.

Suddenly, a light shone and Clarke finally understood. She understood that the City of Light wasn't what she expected. It wasn't a place with no faults. It was a place which punished faults.

The terror in her eyes said everything.

Clarke took a deep breath, stretched her aching body and threw back her swollen shoulders. This was it, perhaps, her only chance to get to someplace safe.

So she followed a stranger through a foreign place, wishing she had somebody to discuss her decision with. Wishing she had _Bellamy_.

* * *

"Are you crazy?!"  
"She might know something!"

The Blake siblings were once again fighting. Ever since Bellamy told his friends about the note and what it actually was, they had been arguing about whether to go or not to go to Lexa.

Bellamy wanted to.

Octavia didn't.

"I have to agree with Bellamy. If we have any chance of reaching Clarke, we have to take it." Raven said, her mechanic leg breaking the silence that had set. Bellamy didn't want to, but he looked pitifully at the piece of flesh not there any longer.

"She doesn't know anything! If she did, she wouldn't have asked to see Clarke!" His little sister protested and suddenly he found himself in awe of how she had chanced from the little girl who had lived hidden on the Ark into a powerful woman.

It took a second for him to regain his train of thoughts.

Bellamy had doubts. He knew Clarke and knew that she wouldn't have left completely unsupplied for a journey. Whether she had stolen or had received the necessities didn't matter as Lexa probably knew either way.

So he was willing to take a chance.

"OK. Hold on a second. Assuming we ask Lexa and she has, indeed, seen Clarke. She obviously doesn't know that Clarke is gone so what if she suddenly decides she wants to join us?" Raven said, her back leaning against the wall.

"Why would she want to come?" Bellamy was lost, and by the looks of it, he wasn't the only one.

The only two people who didn't look confused at all were Octavia and Raven.

He took a moment.

Both Morty and Jasper had been in Mt. Weather while the Grounders collaborated with their people.

So had he, for the better part.

Lincoln had barely just been accepted back into his tribe, he probably didn't notice anything.

And Bellamy didn't know much about Wick but he didn't seem like the kind of person to catch up on details.

"What the hell happened while I was away?"

Neither one of the girls seemed willng to look at him.

"What the hell happened?"He repeated himself, this time accentuating each word.

There was a short, tension-filled pause, in which no one dared to speak, no one dared to even breath.

It was the perfect silence.

Bellamy could feel his sister was just about to crack so he averted his stare towards her.

"We don't know what happened." She finally said, and he could effortlessly see the truth behind the words.

_They didn't know what had happened but knew something did. _

"And what do you suspect?" He inquired further.

"Honestly, Bellamy, you need to have this conversation with Clarke, not with us." Raven started, obviously trying to change the subject. And Bellamy was willing to let it slide.

"I would but she isn't here, is she?"

"Then lets concentrate on finding her."

They had a point. And if both of them considered going to Lexa such a terrible idea, he wasn't just going to ignore it. Clarke wouldn't have.

"Fine. Anyone has any idea how you get to this city?"

"Through the desert, follow north." Jasper answered the question simply.

Bellamy nodded, fully aware that they won't receive more specific directions than that.

"Tomorrow, sunrise. Who wants to come is more than welcome to. If you don't want to, that's fine but don't bother coming. We're not waiting for anyone. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." Octavia answered, a swift, stolen glace at Lincoln.

They decided who brings what. They decided who leads the way (Bellamy), they decided who they will and who they won't tell.

"You want to do what?!" Abigail Griffin was without a doubt, indeed a griffin.

"Find your daughter."

"Because I trust a pack of -"

"Kids?" Bellamy suggested. He was getting tired of the same argument, every single day. "I would have thought the past few weeks had changed your mind."

"They did." She answered, although her tone indicated something else completely.

"Then let us go."

"Let me come with you."

"The people need you."

"They have Kane. She's my daughter, Bellamy."

Bellamy took a moment to consider. If they left Kane in control of everything, would it be alright? Would he return to his old ways? He knew what he had to do, but it felt selfish to ask a mother to stay behind as a few _kids _tried to find her daughter in a whole world. And selfish when he, he who was nothing to Clarke, would go.

* * *

Clarke stood motionless, at the top of a dune, watching over a single, sand-coloured tent in the great nothingness. Suddenly, the doubts she had been pushing down within herself were now surfacing.

She watched Farah (the girl had written her name in the sand when Clarke asked for it) go straight down towards the tent, without even a moment's hesitation.

_At least it's a roof over my head_, Clarke thought as she followed her guide down the path.

What waited for her inside that tent was, however, more than she expected.

Clarke watched dumbly as the tent entrance uncovered a small, metal igloo-like construction, with a single door and no windows. The roof was sharp, and had a kind of antenna as the base of the whole structure.

She watched Farah pull out a key from one of her hidden pockets and unlock the door.

Suddenly, Clarke had been pushed into darkness.

For the first time since she had met her, the blonde was stupidly conscious of the knife hiding beneath her clothes, a knife she was all too willing to take out in case of anything.

_But what did she have to loose, anyway?_

"Where are you taking me?"

But there was no answer from the darkness.

Instead, Clarke felt herself literary falling and she found herself wondering if this was the end. Strangely enough, she wondered if it had been the same for all those innocent people whom she had murdered.

_Together._

**Hope you enjoyed it! I will let you know that as from this chapter on, I have the perfect plan for the story. 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

He had said dawn, but Bellamy was awake hours before the appointed time.

Awake and pacing around his room like a mad person. He had checked his backpack at least a dozen of times, each time adding something, only to remove it again.

It was truly maddening.

They had decided the exact quantity of food, the exact number of water bottles, the perfect number of minimal luggage.

Only they had absolutely no idea how long it would take them, nor where they were going to end up.

It was probably the stupidest plan he had ever come up with.

And yet, everyone seemed too eager to go along with.

"Be as quiet as you can. We don't need Grounders shooting arrows at us."

Bellamy had been holding his breath with every step, ever since they left camp.

Looking back now, what the heck had been in his mind to bring Raven along?

And Wick.

And Jasper and Monty.

And Lincoln.

And Octavia.

This was no longer his mission and his life hanging in the balance. This was everything.

The trees felt alive at night, reaching for trespassers like the hands of a cruel fate. They had left early, and in the dead of the night, everything felt a hundred times more dangerous. He felt eyes watching their every move and more often than not, he stopped everyone just to make sure they weren't followed.

Octavia growled every single time and Raven's leg creaked and Bellamy wondered what the heck had been in his mind. Again.

There was no knowing that they were still on the right track, as the trees were getting higher, and the sky was getting brighter. Still they kept advancing, their pace surprisingly fast for a group of that size.

That was one thing Bellamy was grateful for. Everyone was focused on finding Clarke and no one was complaining.

* * *

The fall had felt like forever, although after a while, Clarke was done waiting for it to end. Instead, she stood there patiently, heart in her throat, putting every bit of hope in the presence of the floor beneath her.

How could she be falling and yet still feel like she wasn't?

She would try asking, but she knew Farah wasn't going to answer any questions.

So she stood quietly, taking comfort in the fact that her guide wasn't yet screaming.

By the time she had finally stopped falling, Clarke was sure she had either died or reached the center of Earth. The former seemed more plausible.

So she breathed in, and just as she was about to admit that she had led a beautiful life, the blonde was blinded by light.

It was most probably the effect of the darkness, but as she stepped outside, guided by a hand she could only hope belonged to Farah, she felt blind as a bat.

Her eyes took forever to adjust, only to wish they hadn't.

What was before her resembled terribly much what she had destroyed only a few days ago.

The first thing she noticed were the lights – artificial – and their blinding power. They illuminated a hall of at least 30 feet tall, and every few feet, a complicatedly-designed balcony occupying the whole wall seemed to lead to a completely other level.

Clarke counted 3 levels but she didn't want to trust her math skills at that moment. Instead, she studied the walls in themselves, painted with what could easily resemble the pictures from her biology books.

Trees, all kinds of them: some with pine needle, some with leaves. Some taller and some smaller.

* * *

Trees, all kinds of them: some with pine needle, some with leaves. Some taller and some smaller.

But all shielding their views.

It had to be at least an early afternoon but the light wasn't coming through the forest from above. Bellamy knew it was stupid, but he desperately wanted to reach the desert as he then could at least keep any eye on everyone.

Slight grumbling noises had started a few minutes ago, and since then, Bellamy was constantly having a debate with himself over whether to or not to break one of their arrangements and take the food out early.

Each time he decided not to.

And each time another complaint from their stomachs would fire away, sanding him right back into debtate.

They had slowed down to an almost stroll-like pace and while he knew it was because of the lack of energy, he couldn't bring himself to forgive them.

_Where are you, Clarke?_

When he left camp, he had no doubt that Clarke would be thrilled to see them. But now, now he was beginning to wonder...

* * *

In the gigantic room, Clarke had never felt smaller in her life. There were so many strangers there, and yet they were wearing the same design of clothing as her. Not white, like they were screaming for blood on their garments.

But all the same, they neither painted their face nor dressed as if they wanted to be part of nature.

They resembled _her_ people.

Suddenly and out of no where, a man grabbed Farah by her waist. Clarke was just about to attack when she heard her companion's joyous cry as the man spun her around, his hands secured around her whole, little body. He only let her fall back on the ground after quiet a few dizzying spins and she didn't hesitate before wrapping her arms around him and burring her head in his neck.

The gesture seemed all too familiar.

A grumpy, old man that happened to pass by, grunted in disapproval.

"Do you mind? I've been worried sick for my sister."

Where had Clarke heard something like that, before?

_Do you mind? I haven't seen my brother in a year._

* * *

The sun had almost set as they kept moving in sync. The view had changed radically, as the trees were finally beginning to rarefy and so was the chance to find a place safe enough to lay down.

"Bellamy, I think it's enough for one day." His sister suggested, a hand placed on his tense shoulder.

He missed having a voice of reason along with him, so when he was given one, he accepted.

"Fine. But we need a place more hidden than this.

No one seemed to argue, so they were surprisingly efficient.

A cave seemed to have been waiting for them, only a mile off their course.

It was dark, and small and it smelled like dead fish, which probably was the case.

It also had a horribly disgusting appeal to it.

But everyone knew there was nothing better to be found hidden, nor was anyone willing to keep looking.

So they pulled the blankets out and did their best to pretend they were asleep.

* * *

"How did you get here?"

Clarke Griffin was having a normal, every day conversation with another human being.

Farah's brother turned out to be a really nice, _talkative _host, as opposed to everything Clarke had been experiencing the past few days.

Iskander, as was his name, shared most of his sister's traits. Fiery red hair, a whitish face and quite a few freckles. His face, however, hadn't been burnt off, and his eyes were both the same color – a pale blue.

"It's kind of a long story."

Clarke found herself laughing, although there was nothing really funny about it. It was simply such a relief not to be in charge anymore.

And sure, she had doubts, big ones, but it was just a night. What could possibly happen in one night?

"I'm willing to listen."

The big brother stole a glace at the sleeping figure in the bed, and a small smile crept to his lips.

"Lets just say we ran from a society who wanted perfection straight into the arms of one who embraced flaws."

**ok, I have to say a few things:**

**1\. Anyone else convinced The City of Light is actually New York?**

**2\. I know everyone wants a Bellarke reunion. I want that too and writing this is torture. But I do promise you _the height will be worth the pain._**

**3\. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope the back and forth wasn't too much. I just wanted to parallel their lives. **


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

Clarke Griffin had never been a sleepy head, not even when she was safe and surrounded by love and fluffiness.

In fact, there wasn't a day in her whole life that she had slept more than ten hours.

But now, now so it happened that she had slept almost one full day.

By the time she woke up, the sun had set again and everything was quiet in the underground monstrosity of a building.

_And she was alive_.

In fact, she was more than alive. She was well, healthy, with no more bleeding cuts, no more dirty clothes and filthy skin. She was full and hydrated. She was more than alive, she was perfect.

The only thing that didn't add up was the fact that she was already tired again.

_Had they drugged me?_

But the thought was long gone as she closed her eyes again. She was just so tired.

* * *

Bellamy hadn't been able to sleep for the whole night. It wasn't even a question of whether or not he could sleep, because he knew he couldn't.  
It might have been the guilt. It might have been that terrible feeling that kept nudging him.  
But as it turned out, just before dawn, a few people have actually managed to rest.  
Octavia, whom Bellamy did not want to look at just at that moment, as she was laying in Lincoln's arms, seemed to have had no trouble falling asleep.  
The man holding her, however, had been wide awake all night.  
Raven, as well.  
Bellamy actually wondered if she hadn't managed to relax because of her leg. She didn't seem comfortable with it, and he was more than sure she took the replacement off whenever she slept. But who would want to be the centre o attention with something like that?  
"Should we go?" Jasper looked the most terrible, out of all people. His eyes were both swallow and dark circled and his face was white as a sheet.  
Bellamy forced his eyes away, not able to stomach the sight any further. He found himself understanding Clarke and her motives to walk away.  
Who would want to watch a friend destroy themselves with everyday, knowing that it was your fault?

* * *

"It's perfect here. They even give you a place, before you can get your own. They take care of you."  
Iskender said, as he sat down.  
"Who are they?" Clarke asked, hating herself for not trusting those incredible people who had helped her.  
_You don't trust the leaders,_ she told hesrelf as she watched the happy siblings. They remined her of Bellamy and Octavia so much, it was getting ridiculous. She had reach a point when she couldn't even look at her hosts because all she saw was the life she had left behind.

Clarke adverted her eyes and took another good look at the room she was in. It was a modest home, with a small kitchen crumpled in a corner and a couch in the other. There was also a TV in front of the screaming green couch, some old, thick thing Clarke had only seen in pictures. In between the so-called living room and kitchen stood a small, wooden table with four chairs.

The blonde didn't see the use in having so many chairs since no one seemed to come visit but she didn't give it much thought either.

There were two doors leading away from the double-function room. One led to the bedroom. The other was the exit, the way to a long, dark, narrow hallway full of identical doors. As Clarke had been told, this was the sector for newcomers or for those who couldn't yet afford a house.

This was sector 2.

Everything was built underground. From those small rooms, to those big, beautiful houses everyone kept talking about. Of course those buildings were only, just another complex of rooms that hadn't seen daylight. And all of these made a huge living space, unfolding over miles and miles in each direction.

Those people were safe, protected. But they had also been stripped, at their own will, apparently, of the beauty of Earth.

This was what unsettled Clarke most.

* * *

They were walking so slow, it felt like torture, rather than actual progress. Any hope Bellamy had was that Clarke had somehow, miraculously lost herself and the journey had taken longer than planned.

Not that she had thought enough to actually plan anything.

But now, it was useless to even think about it.

"Bell, slow down." His sister hurried to catch up with him, as he had unknowingly made a few steps farther from the group. Octavia gasped one big breath of air as she finally reached her destination.

Bellamy stopped as soon as he felt her had on his shoulder.

"We're going too fast. There's no rush."

He was about to protest, but a look around showed him there was barely anyone still standing.

"Fine. No more than half an hour."

At that last sentence, even Octavia placed herself on a random log, ready to take a break.

Bellamy didn't understand. This sudden tiredness was unusual even for them. They weren't fighters, almost neither of them, at least not front line soldiers, but they knew the importance of this. It had barely been a few hours and everyone, _everyone _was so tired, it almost tired him as well.

He took a moment to figure out the approximate time, but the sun was behind quite a thick layer of clouds.

"Is anyone hungry?"

He shouldn't, he knew it, but there was no other reasonable explanation but hunger or thirst that could leave them so tired.

"No, Bellamy, it's fine. We kind of just ate."

At first, he didn't think much of this statement. He wasn't hungry and everyone probably knew that. Then, it clicked.

"What kind of plant?" He asked, his voice strained with worry. No way was everyone so tired all of a sudden. They had made so much longer journeys.

"Relax, Bell. Lincoln said it's fine." Since when did Morty talk like that? In fact, since when did everyone act like that.

"Yeah, I'm starting to doubt that." Lincoln said, crashing on the ground as well. Finally, Bellamy was the only one still standing.

He scanned the territory only to notice Jasper had already fallen asleep. Hopefully.

A quick check of his pulse reassured him, however.

It was not a deadly thing, whatever they had eaten. Merely a sleep-inducer.

_A lost day_, he thought, seeing no other choice but to wait for the effects to pass.

**I just have to make a quick disclaimer as last time I used a Taylor Swift quote and now it probably won't help but since her manager is going crazy over copyright, I DO NOT OWN ANY LYRICS USED. **

**Anyway I'm probably way too paranioc so nevermind. **


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

Clarke was wondering around the impossibly long, monotone halls.

It wasn't even a question of when, any longer. She was starting to doubt that these gray walls would ever come to a stop.

In all fairness, this wasn't only if/when debate.

She was both ashamed and terrified to admit that for once since she had seen Earth, she was no longer in charge and she loved it. It was like a holiday, a break from all the lives she had stolen.

In some ways, this weirdly formed, apparently flawless society resembled the Ark. That place where she was just a kid and every rule was straight forward. Break a rule, you are not a good person.

Not that she was a good person.

She shook her head vigorously, in an attempt to forget those thoughts.

It wasn't healthy nor was it useful.

So instead, she focused her mind on finding that damn exit already.

This flawless society had to have some flaws and not for the first time did Clarke consider asking to see those leaders everyone was so found of.

But she kept walking, knowing she would either find herself facing a dead end, or an exit.

This was starting to feel more and more like a prison.

"Where are you headed?" A soft, low whisper reached Clarke's ears.

She turned around instinctively, to face the red haired Farah.

As it turned out, she wasn't deaf or mute. Just traumatized.

In the days that had followed, Clarke had gathered quiet some information on both the cities. She knew, for instance, that this place she was in, was called Gaia, after some antic mythical goddess. She knew that the leaders were never seen.

She knew that they were never heard.

And yet, everyone adored them.

It smelled fishy from a hundred miles away.

She had also had her suspicions confirmed: Farah's face had been burnt because of her eyes, though not quite as Clarke had imagined it. In fact, it was almost an alternative, as much as you can call that. Farah had been given a choice: either to have her eye pulled out in an 'unfortunate accident', maintaining the city's perfect image, or to leave on her own, willingly and unforced, once again protecting a false image. She chose neither.

She was accused of and executed for a crime she did not commit. She had her face burnt, she was tortured and forced to leave.

And through all of this, only Iskender had any idea what was going on.

So perfect was everything that even the imperfections were perfectly hid.

* * *

"Do you have any idea of where we're going?"

Lincoln was trying to have a nice and light conversation with Bellamy, the former knowing what the latter must be going through.

Bellamy was trying to keep that conversation going for Lincoln's sake, the former knowing what the latter must be going through.

It was ridiculous, actually, considering they had fought side by side many times now and they still couldn't make small talk.

Octavia, who usually kept Bellamy company had moved on to Raven, probably bored of having the same conversation over and over again, with rephrased sentences.

These days, Clarke seemed the only thing that Bellamy could to talk about.

They had made it to the desert with no more crazy happenings, for which their leader was grateful. And yet, he still had that gut feeling that something was to go terribly wrong.

They had been following the North Star, as soon as they had spotted it and it was a known fact that the City of Light was north.

Still, he felt like they were going the wrong way.

"Not a clue." Bellamy answered the long forgotten question. Because of this sickening feeling, he had decided to change the course a bit.

It was the craziest idea he had ever had, and he had gotten smacked enough times by Octavia to know the danger he was putting everyone in. And yet, going east seemed to make more sense than going north.

In the end, this incredible city everyone talked about couldn't be the only place to live in this whole goddamn desert.

"So, we're following what?" Bellamy should have not been blaming Lincoln. After all, he was just making an effort. Yet, he couldn't help but feel impossibly annoyed with him.

"My gut. Better hope it's goddamn right."

Bellamy was irritated and irrational. On top of that, he was starting to identify that feeling that had been following him around for a little while before Clarke had left as something he did not like the sound of.

"I'm counting on it. So is everyone else."

Perhaps he was wrong, but Bellamy thought that had actually been a compliment.

Night was falling too fast, he knew that much.,

It was falling too fast and something was terribly wrong. He also happened to be terribly tired so he could not take the guard tonight, despite how much he wanted to.

He looked up, only to have his vision obscured by enormous, black clouds.

"Does it ever rain in the desert?" He asked, suddenly alarmed.

He had no idea what rain in such a dry place meant, let alone how it was going to affect their journey.

"Damn." Raven spoke first, and while Bellamy didn't quite follow, almost everyone else seemed to understand the use of the word.

"What?" He asked.

"When desert rains happen, they usually create high speed torrents and flash floods." Morty explained, as if reciting from a book.

_Damn_, indeed.

**Hope you liked it!**


	7. Chapter 7

**VII**

Bellamy thought he had seen hell too many times for his age. This, however, was something out of this world hellish. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong, had.

They had lost the water and the sleeping bags.

It couldn't have been the food, or the useless clothes.

No, it had to be the water.

Which was quite frustratingly ironic considering their position.

They had climbed to the highest place they could see, which was such a risk in its own. With their luck, lighting was probably going to hit them.

But what was the alternative? To stay down and be swept away by water.

Oh, and they were all tied to a rope, which, in case that lighting did hit, would mean killing them all.

Down in the dunes there was a massive amount of water and for once Bellamy had no clue as what to do.

If they kept moving, the water currents might take them.

If they stood still, lighting might hit them.

From that point of view, they were dead no matter what.

What were the chances anyway? How goddamn often did something like this happen?

He was willing to bet not too often.

"Bellamy, relax." His sister, who happened to be tied closer to him, said.

"How in the world am I supposed to relax?" He answered, before finishing with a softly spoken afterthought. "I dragged you all into this."

"No, you didn't." Monty contradicted him. "It was our choice."

Still, no amount of words could reassure Bellamy that they were going to survive this.

He looked at the sky just in time.

"DOWN!" He yelled just as a bolt of lighting cut through the dark clouds and landed roughly a few feet away from them.

He counted the seconds until the thunder erupted in the void.

The eye of the storm was three miles away.

"That was close." Wick said, his face not hiding the fear.

Bellamy was terrified himself.

* * *

Thunders could be heard from so many feet under the ground.

Clarke found herself wondering if anyone could survive such a storm.

She knew from some books and a short dialogue with Farah that it was mostly impossible to survive out there without a proper shelter. Yet, she couldn't help but wonder if her people would be the ones to survive.

She trusted her people.

She missed her people, so much, she was willing to go back.

In fact, she wanted to go back and had arranged her things, stole some food and water from the incredibly huge, incredibly bright cafeteria. But then, the storm came, and Clarke was left with no choice but to stay until the hell outside had passed.

"You don't have to go, you know."

"You can come, both of you." Clarke replayed. This place was too quiet for her liking, too uneventful to keep her on her toes.

She couldn't believe it, but she actually missed the agitation, if not the wars themselves.

And on top of everything, her heart had been strangely longing for someone she never expected to miss more than everyone else. Not like that, not that kind of missing.

_Bellamy_.

His name felt bittersweet on her lips, as she tested it, almost as to make sure she had not forgotten it.

"What?" Farah asked, not hearing the mumbling over another thunder.

But Clarke only shook her blonde locks.

_You're forgiven. _She had said_. _

_You're forgiven_. He had later said.

Why had it been enough for him, but not for her? What had been in her mind?

As she walked side by side with her host in a perfect silence, she imagined Bellamy at the camp, talking to who knows who, already having found a replacement for Clarke.

The thought gave her a terrible feeling.

_He wouldn't do that._

In these months on Earth, she had actually grown dependent on him. And she missed him, God, she missed him.

But she couldn't let those feelings surface, could she?

She couldn't risk jeopardizing everything because of a stupid, passing _crush. _

Nevertheless, she needed to see him. She needed to see them all.

By the time they reached the right apartment, Clarke's mind had gone through every one of her friends' lives, imagining what they were doing at that moment. She had also thought of her mother, and how she had felt when she received the news.

How she had been surprised or devastated or plain angry.

"You have to eat something." Iskender challenged. Clarke had barely touched her food, playing around the plate with a fork and he was growing worried.

Clarke knew there was no secret that he didn't want her to leave. But he had no idea.

It was nice to imagine a life here, maybe even with him. But it was selfish to show him the blood on her hands, it was horrible to make him carry some of her burden and it was wrong to keep everything from him.

She couldn't nor would she do it.

She felt like she had overused her invitation, anyway, eating their food and sleeping in their bed.

God, she missed him so much, it was getting ridiculous.

It was like she had left her feelings to surface and now, they were too overwhelming to push back down inside her anymore. Where did they all come from? When had they all been born, harbored, developed?

It felt like all of Clarke's thoughts that night, as the thunders kept ringing through the silent corridors, were either questions or restrictions.

_She couldn't. _

_Could she?_

_She wouldn't. _

_Would she?_

She fell asleep with his name on her lips.

* * *

They were in the eye of the storm.

In the eye of their destruction.

They had managed to create a satisfying lighting rod out of Raven's leg and moved as further away from it as possible.

And at that moment, Bellamy was a hundred times more grateful he had Raven and Wick than he had ever been the whole trip.

But the hell, the danger was not over, it merely just gave them a pause. He had heard stories about gods controlling everything and he was now cursing every name that came to his mind.

It seemed someone out there either wanted them dead or was purely a sick bastard.

He tried recalling how large this break from the storm could be, but it was useless.

A thunder raged somewhere in the distance.

"It's getting close to an end, we should all lay down." Raven said, jumping on one leg. Everyone seemed to avert their gaze, unable to stare her plain in the eyes.  
"Alright." Bellamy agreed.

"Just stay close." His voice was calm, but his insides were raging as terribly as the storm they had gotten stuck in. His stupid instructions seemed the only thing that kept him calm enough.

He sighed, and laid himself down on the wet sand, next to his baby sister.

He took her hand in his, and squeezed it like it was the last time he would ever. Because truthfully, he wasn't sure they were gonna make it.

She clutched right back.

Everyone held their breath as the first lighting hit their fragile structure.

* * *

Clarke woke up to screams.

She reached for her knife, before she even had the chance to fully wake up.

For a second there, she had forgotten where she was.

Farah was turning and stumbling in her bed, her small hands over her ears and her face contracted into something that resembled a horrible kind of fear.

Not knowing what to do, Clarke got up, ready to wake her friend up.

She didn't get the chance, however.

"Don't. It only gets worse." Iskender's voice rang lightly like a feather in the room.

Clarke wondered for how long he had been there.

"I came here minutes ago, she was screaming." He said, as if reading her thoughts. "She always does that, when there are loud noises outside."

Clarke could only nod, and as she was already out of bed, she moved to sit on the minuscule couch with him.

"What did they do to her?"

"You don't wanna know."

He turned to her, his face half covered in darkness, his eyes covered in sadness. He looked like a temptation.

"She sang, before all of this. She had the most beautiful voice you have ever heard. And she was so full of life."

"And now..." Clarke didn't finish because she knew the story. She had seen, she had felt this story.

For once, the blonde lost herself in blue eyes piercing the night. She reminded herself how it had felt to be loved, to be cared for.

She knew the touch of a lover, it resembled the gentle fingers of Iskender on her face, and once she knew it, it was like a drug. Addicting and dangerous.

She would never let herself feel all those things out there, but here, where it was safe, it felt like all she ever thought about.

She knew his face was getting closer, the darkness threatening to swallow them both. It felt like this could be a secret. It felt like this could be a chance.

Maybe even a choice.

This could be easy, simple, a banality in the face of what she had been through.

But she couldn't.

"I can't."

And she pulled herself away from him, away from a dangerous outcome.

She loved those who betrayed her, and couldn't love those who were kind to her.

**Hope you enjoyed! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**VIII**

Bellamy didn't know how long it had been when everything was finally past them.

But he knew everyone was alive.

He was cold, and wet and his mouth tasted somewhere between terror and sand.

But they were all alive.

Night had fallen in the process, and with it the temperature dropped dramatically. Suddenly, Bellamy realized that another problem had just occurred. They were freaking soaked to the bone, and he doubted it was above freezing.

"Are the clothes dry?" He asked.

Jasper shook his head.

"Dripping in water." He answered.

Bellamy cursed. He could already see Morty shivering terribly. Next to him, Octavia was doing her best not to show how cold she actually was. Just like everyone else.

"There has to be something in there!" Bellamy exclaimed, frustrated.

"I'm sorry."

They'd better as hell be close to the City of Light.

"We have to move." He finally said, knowing that movement was the only thing keeping them at least a little bit warmer.

"Bell, I think we should-"

Octavia's voice was trembling slightly, sending Bellamy into a mad range. He knew what she meant, but couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I know."

"What's going on?" Lincoln got closer to them, his whole body continuously shivering. It wasn't until then that Bellamy noticed he was shivering as well.

He couldn't believe he was going to do that.

"Strip of any unnecessary layers of clothing." He didn't doubt everyone knew this was what had to be done, but at the same time no one wanted to.

Instead, seven people stood staring at each other.

The pressure seemed to press on them heavier with every passing second.

Finally, Octavia was the first to react.

"Oh, fuck this." She removed her sweater in one move, and her shirt in another one.

Bellamy wasn't the only one to look away.

Soon, everyone was in nothing more than their underwear, and no one was looking up.

"Raven!"

Raven's legs were still covered in soaked clothes.

Raven's _leg_, Bellamy reminded himself, guessing that was the reason why she was refusing to take off any more layers.

Wick, whom he had never really known to be gentle, offered her support.

"I'm fine, don't worry about me."

So they walked, as fast they could, as careful as never before.

From beside him, Bellamy could feel everyone's hands checking every few minutes if their clothes had dried.

Out of respect, or out of embarrassment, no one was looking anywhere but at their own feet, moving across the sand.

* * *

Clarke woke up with a splitting headache, a damaged heart and an unbearable pain in her back. She wonder if anything else could go wrong.

Iskender wasn't talking to her.

Farah wasn't talking at all.

And their breakfast table was as awkward as anything Clarke had ever seen.

"You're leaving today, aren't you?" He asked, his bright red hair, catching her attention for some reason.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. That hadn't been a question but an incrimination.

If Farah agreed, she remained quiet.

Everything, in fact, was sickeningly quiet as Clarke struggled to fit everything in the small bag she had been offered. And she felt watched, with every move she made.

Was it right? To leave like that, after they had offered her so much?

She couldn't bring herself to answer that question.

"Please, stay." The small voice identifiable as Farah's, asked, as her differently colored eyes looked at the ground.

The blonde didn't know the exact age of the two siblings, but she was pretty sure Farah was smaller than her. Smaller than Octavia, probably.

As for Iskender, he was definitely younger than Bellamy.

_Bellamy._

* * *

As soon as the sun came up and the temperature rose again, everyone stopped, in some sort of mutual agreement.

It took about an hour for their clothes to be completely dry, and as they got dressed, Bellamy noticed Raven was the only one still shaking.

Which could be anything but good.

"Raven..." Octavia tried.

"I'm fine!" It had been meant to be a yell, but what came out was a shivering whisper.

Why had they agreed to that idiocy? And for what? For a stupid injury that everyone already knew about?

Now they had no idea where they were, they had lost most supplies and had averted from the route. It felt like the recipe for disaster.

"Guys, look!" Monty was pointing at something down in the dune, a strain of orange in the sea of gold.

Bellamy didn't hesitate before looking at what appeared to be a tent.

Whoever decided to live in the middle of nothing, he didn't care, he just hoped they could help.

He was about to suggest to go down, easily, but before he could even say a word, both Monty and Jasper were running at a dizzy speed, Octavia hot on their heels.

_They may had just been saved_, Bellamy thought, before noticing the three had stopped dead in their tracks, staring at something.

At someone.

He tried focusing his gaze on the three strangers: two fiery red heads and a golden one.

Before he looked again, he swallowed.

It couldn't be her.

Suddenly, Bellamy was running as well.

* * *

Clarke had expected to enjoy the hot sun rays on her skin. She expected to be blinded by the sun, she even expected the melancholy that would overcome her as she said goodbye.

What she didn't expect was to come face to face with Monty. And Jasper. And Octavia.

She definitely didn't expect that.

She didn't know if they were mad at her. She didn't know if she should hug them or apologize, even if she should move. But she found herself being engulfed in hugs and kisses, tight and full of love, like she was the most precious thing in the world.

She found herself crying, although she couldn't say why.

There was no one else in the world, but her and those three beautiful people. And then, then they were two and she was crying, and she was running towards a familiar figure, enclosing the huge gap between them.

And then she was caught by strong arms that wrapped firmly around her and she was flying, spinning around him.

They were laughing and she was reaching for the sky. They both were, because nothing was impossible.

When she finally felt the ground beneath her, she was dizzy with so many feelings.

And Clarke looked at Bellamy. And Bellamy looked at Clarke.

"Glad to see you, Clarke." His voice left her weak in the knees, stumbling to regain her balance.

She kept looking in his chocolate eyes and he was lost in hers.

There was no more reason, no more possibilities. Just here and now.

She got closer to him, and Bellamy followed her lead, as always.

Clarke was out of breath as she let herself soften in his arms.

Closer and closer and closer.

The sun was shining so bright, they both had to close their eyes. The impact burnt like nothing before.

It was soft at first, unsure. And then, the kiss came to life, saying everything they both couldn't.

_I missed you. _

_I need you. _

_I love you. _

By the time they pulled away, there were no more secrets between them, just the stripped truth.

**Yes, they finally kissed. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	9. Chapter 9

IX

"Never thought I'd see _that_." Somewhere in the progress, Octavia had reached them.

As Clarke looked around, emotions threatening to overcome her judgment, as if they already hadn't, she noticed they were so many more people than she could have ever anticipated.

There was Lincoln and Wick and Raven.

And Raven, Raven who was shaking so badly.

Suddenly, instinct kicked in.

"What happened?" Clarke asked, the magic of the moment lost.

For a second, no one replayed, too perplexed to say anything. Clarke's eyes traveled back to Bellamy and he understood.

"We were caught in a storm-"

"That storm? As in the last night storm?"

Clarke could hardly believe this. How had they even survived that, not that she was complaining.

"Yes, and she got sick."  
Clarke wondered as to how she had been the only one to get sick but decided against asking.

"We have to go back inside." The blonde instructed, for the first time since forever, turning towards the two red-haired siblings that had doored her for the few days.

Farah only nodded.

"What do you mean, inside?" Octavia asked, in a slightly defensive tone.

"You'll see." Was the only response Clarke gave her. She moved her eyes across the field, for a moment meeting Iskender's blue eyes.

She looked away, not bearing the cold look she had received.

Bellamy looked dumbstruck at the imposing structure staring back at him.

Whatever previous joy he had at seeing Clarke was long since forgotten. The memory of her lips on his, however, wasn't as easy to loose, even if his conscious had other problems to worry about.

He stared back at the blonde, but she was too busy having some kind of unspoken conversation with the red-haired man.

So Bellamy focused his attention on Raven, and her apparently small figure shaking uncontrollably. She was leaning on Wick for support but it didn't take a genius to figure out she wasn't going to stand for much too long.

"Ok, where to?" He launched the question to no one in particular, hoping everyone would come back down to the ground.

Luckily, someone did.

The red-haired girl, had grabbed the hem of his shirt as she pulled him straight ahead. Everyone else seemed to follow without question.

"Where are we even going?"

"Hospital." The foreign man said, taking the lead.

No one said anything after that.

The fact that they hadn't been allowed to wait for Raven, or any news about her, in the hospital was weighting down on Clarke as guilt.

But she wouldn't let the terrible thoughts threatening overcome her. It was too dangerous to give yourself up as bait to depression, not when everyone was looking up at you.

She wondered if they would still look up at her after what she had done.

Everyone had gathered in the small apartment and though the blonde had tried to make conversation with all of her friends, every subject seemed to die out seconds after it had been brought up.

It resembled a badly injured patient in that way, the way they would somehow struggle to hold onto life, if only to loose the battle in the end.

Clarke hated thinking that way.

"It's fine. She survived much worse." The blonde said, the words sounding like a conviction to herself rather than everyone else.

No one answered for a while.

"Of course she will." Bellamy joined in.

There were not many things to say at that moment, but she appreciated the effort. She looked up at him, and just as always, they locked eyes.

This time, however, there was something different. There was no hesitation, no secrets in their stare but something that resembled puzzlement more than anything.

They didn't pull away until someone cleared their throat.

Of course, Clarke knew her friends. She knew they wouldn't shut up about what they had just seen, no matter the situation they were in. However, she dreaded the moment of questioning.

"So, you fled from the City of Light?"

It was, surprisingly enough, Bellamy who found this new topic of conversation.

And Farah wasn't going to answer their questions, they were too many and too new for her.

So Iskender cleared his throat and nodded.

"Yes." And after a moment's pause. "It's not all it's built up to be. I don't know what stories you've heard, but I can assure you there's nothing even remotely safe in a society obsessed with perfection."

Bellamy nodded, his curly hair slightly moving.

Clarke didn't fail to notice that, as dirty as they all were, there were no more open wounds marking them.

Even the all too familiar scar at the base of Bellamy's nose had slightly faded.

Clarke smiled, unconsciously, at the thought of peace.

"And you came across this place?"

Their conversation was all kinds of awkward, but Clarke couldn't blame anyone. After all, they were strangers.

"Maybe you should just rest?" Clarke suggested, seeing how most were barely keeping their eyes open.

She could only imagine the horribleness they had to endure to survive a storm.

It had to be at least almost midnight when Iskender announced that they could apparently request a few extra rooms.

_It was about getting as many people to stay as possible_, he had explained, as he arranged for seven more beds.

Now, they were at the entrance of yet another wing, and Clarke was having a mental debate on where she should sleep.

It was funny, but she felt like an intruder with her new friends just as much as she felt with her old ones.

"You didn't have to do this." Jasper said, looking from Iskender to Farah and back again.

"It was nothing." Farah whispered, just loud enough for Clarke to hear as well. It was the first time she had spoken since this morning, and her voice was stronger than most times.

Jasper nodded, obviously taken aback as well.

"Well, we'll just let you rest, then." Iskender said, his firm voice hiding the doubt . He looked at Clarke, who couldn't bare the eye contact so she turned around.

Only then, she caught Octavia's knowing eyes.

So she decided to just look at the wall in front of her as she spoke.

"I'm going to stay with them tonight, if that's okay."

Farah nodded, but Iskender said nothing.

* * *

There was something going on with that Iskender guy. Bellamy couldn't but his fingers on it just yet but whatever he had done, it obviously made Clarke uncomfortable.

But Clarke was sleeping just next to them, so there was nothing to worry about at that moment.

He was worried, nevertheless.

He had been twitching and turning all night and by the time he finally gave up on falling asleep, he was already out in the barely lit hallway. He expected that.

What he didn't expect was a wide awake Clarke to come out of her room.

"Isn't it a bit too early?" Bellamy asked teasingly. The memory of their kiss was replaying itself in his head and the urge to kiss her again was overwhelming.

"Bellamy!" She obviously hadn't expected to bump into him, either. "What are you doing here?"  
"I couldn't sleep." He answered, truthfully.

"Me neither."

There was a long pause through which no knife could cut trough. The tention between them seemed filled with something entirely new.

"What's on your mind?"

"I'm not sure." Her lips were trembling horribly and Bellamy suddenly realized she was cold. He, however, had nothing on him but some shirt. "I guess, a little bit of everything."

Bellamy nodded, before stating the obvious. "We should get inside, you're cold."

Clarke didn't even bother to argue, simply nodded.

"Would you come inside as well?"

This was not an invitation. Not that kind of invitation, anyway and Bellamy had to remind himself that as he agreed.

Her room was exactly like his, small and crammed but somewhat cosy nevertheless. He found himself a spot to sit, a chair somewhere in a corner just as Clarke sat down on her bed.

The covers were shamelessly messy, the sign of her incapability to lay still.

"Why can't _you_ sleep?" She continued their hallway conversation.

"The same, I guess."

"It's not your fault, Bellamy."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't your fault those people died either. But you still blame yourself."

"I pulled the trigger!" Clarke protested, louder than it was really necessary.

"_We _pulled the trigger!" Bellamy answered in the same tone. "Damn it, Clarke. You don't blame the shooter, you blame the maker."

"Is it really like that?" Without Bellamy realizing, Clarke had gotten up and was now staring him straight in the eye.

If he were to get up at that exact moment, there was no way to avoid collision. So instead, he didn't.

"Yes." He answered, although lighter than planned.

"Those people had helped us. Those people had given us the chance and as a thank you, I murdered them."

"We, Clarke! We did it! Together." He had gotten up, and the height difference seemed to work in his favor.

She stared at him, not losing her nerve.

That is, until her eyes slipped lower on his face, tracing the features.

There was no more hesitation when they kissed this time. But there was passion for definite. If Bellamy hadn't known better, he would say they were still arguing, even when they couldn't use words.

She pushed him against the door, and suddenly her lips weren't enough.

He threw her on the bed, but she turned them so she was on top.

Bellamy took a second to wonder whether he should just let her have her way, before deciding against it.

He flipped them both again, so he was once again on top.

Clarke grunted from beneath him and he couldn't help but smile mischievously, just as she started working her way down his neck.

The covers were now tangled around there, limiting their moves so Bellamy peeled them off, along with his shirt.

He just hoped these walls were thick enough.

Clarke woke up to a knock on her door.

She tried to get up, before realizing something was stopping her.

_Someone_.

As everything from last night came back to her, she found herself tangled in a mass of hands and legs. She moved as gently as she could and fought her way to the cold floor.

He was stubborn even in his sleep.

She took the blanket and wrapped it around herself before finally opening the door, just the tiniest of bits.

Octavia was impatiently waiting on the other side.

"Morning." Clarke greeted, trying to sound as nonchalant as she could. Honestly she couldn't imagine a little sister's reaction to this particular situation.

"Oh, no. Don't you start with that. We have no news on Raven, Wick is going crazy, Jasper and Monty won't go out of their rooms and my brother isn't even answering the - "

She stopped, seemingly to take a better look at Clarke.

"You did not just... You know what, never mind."

And with that, she left.

Just as Clarke closed the door, she found herself looking at a very hot, very naked Bellamy Blake.

"Tell me she did not just figure it out."

"I swear I didn't say anything. She just knew."

"Yes, I know. Octavia just knows a lot of things."

"Is there even a point in hiding... whatever this is." Clarke asked, wrapping her insecurity in indifference.

"I think we'd better decide what this is, before deciding not to hide it."

She gulped, slightly turning away as he searched for his clothes, meanwhile throwing hers at her.

They got dressed in less than a minute, which left them with nothing else to do but walk out of the room.

Just as Clarke was opening the door, Bellamy stopped her.

"I don't know how to act." He stated, his words slightly mumbled.

"As always." She answered, hating the discomfort he was in.

"That's he thing, though. I don't want this to be just an 'as always'."

Clarke was left speechless for a moment, before his words fully registered.

"I don't want it, either." She finally said, his response being a surprisingly sweet, short peck which Clarke didn't hesitate before deepening.

She was once again against the door and she loved it.

**Yeah, okay, murder me. I totally deserve it. But I have been so busy lately, I might just vomit the stress right out. Also who invented mind-torturing cells named classrooms. And who invented hiatuses? **

**Not that this is any excuse, but I swear I'll make it up to you. The best is yet to come.**


	10. Chapter 10

**X **

"This is idiocy." Octavia yelled, exasperated, as she fell sliding down the wall and on the floor.

Clarke and Bellamy had barely just exited her room, with a few questioning glances from everyone else.

There was something fishy about how they had not heard anything yet. It's been almost a day.

"It's fine. When Farah broke her leg, she was in the hospital for three whole days and she came back perfectly health." Iskender, who had arrived not long after Clarke's appearance in the hallway, said.

The blonde couldn't help but marvel at the shortness of the recovery period. Three days for a broken leg sounded like magic.

But that didn't mean her nerves were calming down.

Just at that moment, Jasper made an appearance as well, exiting his room. Clarke couldn't help but notice the bags under his eyes had became slightly less visible.

She watched as he placed himself down on the floor, next to Octavia.

Clarke also didn't miss the look Farah threw him as she placed herself on the opposite wall.

What that girl thought she was doing, was far beyond Clarke's understanding.

_Then again_, she thought as she stole a glace at Iskender, _wasn't this exactly what he had done?_

* * *

There was a silence so deep, it had become unbearable.

Bellamy wondered whether he had ever felt so uncomfortable around strangers. There was such a thick tension and he couldn't place his finger on what was crating it.

Beside him, Clarke was uncharacteristically stiff, especially since they were in no danger. He was also, willing to bet that she would have told him had something been wrong with this place.

But this was not danger, this was something different. And for the life of him, he couldn't figure it out.

"So, how exactly are we going to receive information about Raven?" He asked to no one in particular. Of course, the only one who could answer was Iskender.

The man in question answered, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"Usually, a nurse would call you personally. But as you are guests, the probable answer is they will announce it through the speakers."

Bellamy nodded, taking the information in.

"Can we stay somewhere... more central?" Jasper asked, the lines of worry pressed deep into his face.

In fact, everyone's face was painted with frowns.

He watched Octavia fidget, not finding the right position to stand in.

And then, there was Jasper, eyes far away.

Clarke, in fact, seemed the only one slightly less affected. But Bellamy knew better than to believe in appearances.

"Hey, she's going to be alright." He whispered in her ear.

He felt the blonde jump in surprise, completely taken aback. Then she looked up, and for a second, Bellamy could've sworn he saw the faintest shadow of vulnerability in the blue seas. But it was gone, as soon as it came, replaced by something determined.

"They are using strong medication. I'm not worried about whether Raven will or will not make it. But the recovery time after being given something too strong..."

She had spoken softly, lightly. But with a coldness with which one would enumerate facts.

Bellamy couldn't help but remember the passion with which she had come on Earth, which which she had fought for their people, hell the passion from_ last night. _But instead, Clarke Griffin seemed to be bearing a tiresome look, most of the time now. As if she was _tired of living_.

He had seen this look before, but at on old man on the Ark. An ex-chairman. When Bellamy was still a kid, the old man told him that after a while, you've seen all there was to see. He had killed himself days after the conversation. People talked, they said he was mad, crazy or plain _depressive_. At that time, though, Bellamy had assumed he was just old, and so, tired of holding on.

But looking down at Clarke, the thought that she was also tired of holding on pained him worse than anything he had expected.

She needed to be here, for their people.

For him.

"If you're trying to tell me this is normal, than no thank you."

Wick was a smart guy, Bellamy knew this. But with a somnolent, nonsense-mumbling, probably girlfriend lying on the bed, there was little rationalizing power for anyone in his situation.

"I'mma be an astropuff." Raven giggled, moving her arms weirdly into the air.

Bellamy looked away, suddenly having an irrational need to punch something.

"What the hell did they give her?" Clarke asked, a slight flame of fierceness rushing through her every move.

"How would I know." Iskender answered, slightly harsher than necessary. What was his deal?

"I don't know. Considering you've lived here longer than us, maybe you might know." Clarke had a valid point, but unfortunately her tone wasn't as pleasant as it could have been.

Bellamy could only stare, a vague idea of what was going on crossing his mind. He honestly hopped he was wrong.

* * *

_What was his problem?_

Clarke was so pissed, she might have exploded had it not been for everyone else.

What exactly was he trying to accomplish by acting like a moody ass? So she didn't kiss him, she would have though he would get over it.

But there was something else, there, as well. And as much as it annoyed the blonde to admit it, she knew she had to find out.

As soon as Iskender left the overcrowded room, she followed him.

By contrast with the hot, barely big enough room to guest everyone, the long hall was as chilly as if it were outside.

And there was enough space to finally breath.

"What is going on with you?" She asked, as soon as she adjusted to the sudden shift.

Iskender chuckled bitterly, announcing a not-so-friendly reply.

"Asks the girl who failed to mention a boyfriend."

_Yes_, Clarke thought,_ she expected that_.

"That's not what's bothering you."

She was slightly walking towards him, wanting to see his face clearer through the darkness.

"What's bothering me is you not leaving sooner."

But that wasn't the exact thing.

For a second, Clarke wondered where she had learned to read people so effortlessly. It wasn't something she used to be good at, many ghosts of her past there to remind her of that particular aspect.

So what was about Iskender that was so easy to read?

"Tell me the truth, Iskender." She was getting closer to him, desperate to read his face. The unfortunate name that slipped out of her tongue, however, added a somewhat intimate air between them.

"The truth? Funny _you_ should ask for that."

"Why the hell are you pissed at me? What was I supposed to do, let my friend die?!" She shouldn't have raised her voice, she knew that. But he was so damn infuriating.

"You could have kept Farah away from them!"

Clarke took a step back, surprise painting her face.

This was what it was all about, wasn't it? A big brother protecting his baby sister.

"I-" But what was there to say?

"He reminds her of someone she used to care for, that's all."

And suddenly, everything fell into place.

**Hope you liked it!**

**You may have noticed I changed quite a lot of things about the story. Truth is, it has evolved into something I haven't quite seen coming so it only felt right to do so. **

**Anyway, I know there wasn't much Bellarke in this chapter and I am sorry for that. But patience is the key and I swear something big, big, big, _big_ is coming their way. **

**Follow, Favorite, Review or just enjoy!**


	11. Chapter 11

** XI**

"What are you not telling me?" Clarke was mad. She was more than mad, actually.

If he thought he could go around lying, he should know better.

"Nothing important." Iskender kept deflecting the real question.

"What is The City Of Light, actually?"

But it wasn't a question and both of them knew it. It was a statement, a request that could not be denied.

"I swear, Clarke, it's nothing more than what I've already told you."

"You're lying."

"I'm not." He wasn't just going to crack, it was obvious now. He was much stronger than Clarke had initially given him credit for.

"We're leaving tomorrow."

And with that, Clarke walked right in the room, to pairs of curious eyes.

She noticed Farah talking to Jasper in a corner and her stomach dropped. He wasn't ready and she was too foolish.

* * *

Bellamy couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"Hey, what was that with Iskender?"

Clarke turned around in the bed, to face him.

His arms were tightly wrapped around her, as if he was scared to loose her, like she was going to disappear and never come back.

"Don't worry about it." There was a pause, and Bellamy was sure this was all he was going to get. Then, she continued. "I just don't trust him."

Bellamy looked straight into her deep blue eyes, trying to understand her motives for saying so.

"Clarke, please open up to me." He said, his voice strained with all kinds of emotions. He barely just got her back and it felt like he was loosing her again.

"I'm fine, I swear. It's just... Everywhere I go, I only see ghosts of the people I have killed. And it's not only the Mountain Men."

Clarke made a pause, her whole face painted with colors of fear and doubt.

If she needed assurance, he was going to give it to her in any way he could. So he kissed her forehead, lightly, barely a kiss at all as his deep brown eyes encouraged her to go on.

"I've started seeing Wells. Or, well, his body. And Maya and all those children. And it's ironic, because I wasn't even there to see them die. I was hidden, safely pulling a trigger that decided who lives and dies. Like I was the God who could make that choice.

I don't even believe in supernatural." She laughed bitterly.

Throughout her speech, Bellamy listened closely, squinting his mind for something he could say to make it better.

What _could_ he say?

"And the worst part is, these things, flashbacks, dreams, _whatever_, they always end with you. You when you're being hanged. Or you when you're tortured. And every time, it was I who put you there." Her eyes were far away, unfocused, in a place where he could not reach.

It was a moment more before she looked back to him, her eyes piercing through his soul with the desperation and fear she had mustered out of no where.

"It's always me who closes the door on you, _always_."

Bellamy Blake couldn't quite fathom the idea that Clarke Griffin was so scared of losing him.

That night, everything about their touches and kisses was gentle, precise, filled with adoration. There was no rush of the moment, there was no hurry or uncertanity.

They just knew, they needed each other. Both as co-leaders and as lovers.

He woke up shivering.

He wasn't exactly sure why, until he remembered how he fell asleep last night. The nakedness that had kept him aflame was now working against him.

The bed was empty, as if he was the only one who slept in it.

Maybe he had been.

Bellamy thought for a second, trying to rationalize Clarke's disappearance.

Would she need space?

Had she gone to check on Raven?

Did she want him to follow?

He had thought last night had been a step forward. Now, he wasn't so sure.

But he still forced himself to get up, to get dressed and act as if nothing was wrong. Because he had been taught to act normal even when the whole world was breaking.

That was, until he noticed the piece of paper left on the small, empty desk. The writing was hasty, as if she didn't have every second in the world to write it. But it was still Clarke, organized to the point that was driving you mad, rational to the point of her pushing you towards irrationality.

_Morning_

_I went for a walk, outside. If you want to join me, fine. As long as you don't scold me for going out on my own._

There was a pause there, as if she had written some invisible words, before she signed her name. As opposed to the writing throughout the note, _Clarke _was written with patience, every letter rounded at the perfect angle.

* * *

Clarke looked around.

A sweater wasn't enough for the crack of dawn, but it would surely be too much in a few hours.

She didn't want to stray too far from the tent, both because she was unarmed in a sea of unknown and because there was that annoying part of her that wanted Bellamy to find her.

But he was the only one who could fin her.

The things she had admitted last night were echoing in her mind like deafening thunders preparing you for the storm.

She had read stories of broken heroines, millions of them. And every one seemed to end in the exact same way, with the heroine struggling all her life.

Would she struggle all her life?

Push through sleepless nights and horrible nightmares to only wake up covered in sweat and tears?

This wasn't the life she had dreamed of when she used to think about Earth. It wasn't what she had imagined. Down here, this wasn't heaven. It was straight-up hell.

And if she was destined to hurt like this for the rest of her life, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Suddenly, two arms caught her from the back, clutching to her shoulders. She fought the grip at first , trying to set herself free.

It wasn't until she recognized the embrace that she calmed down.

It was nice, she thought. It was safe.

When the first tears appeared, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that she sobbing uncontrollably into the arms that were building her a new home.

**Liked it? Loved it? Hated it with a burning passion? **

**Tell me what you thought, I can take it. :)**


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